


Otherside

by BlackandBlueMagpie



Series: The Sidhe of Dublin Town [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Drowning, Gen, Sidhe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackandBlueMagpie/pseuds/BlackandBlueMagpie
Summary: Things are moving in slow motion. The man staggers, catches the back of his leg against the wall and is completely upturned by the impact. Indra doesn’t process as he topples backwards and vanishes. Only when he hears the splash does the world start moving at its normal speed again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Indra is Bossuet, Rónán is Joly

Indra can see it all happening from his vantage point, and for a moment he’s thankful that he had to walk so far to find a café with non-metal outdoor seating.   
He’d been observing the man for part of the few minutes he’d been standing there, pausing in his walk to rest his leg. He’d lent his cane against the wall and braced his hands against it to take advantage of the view a moment as he did so. Indra only really started taking notice, looking over the top of his abandoned newspaper, when he turned round to lean more fully on the wall. It’s relatively low, low enough to rest against, and the man tilts his face to the sun. His hair is lightly coppery in the light, face pale and freckled. His lips turn in a smile of contentment.   
He’s just turned back to begin the cross word when the movement catches the corner of his eye. It’s a cyclist, he’s sure, coming along the pavement, but then things are moving in slow motion. The man staggers, catches the back of his leg against the wall and is completely upturned by the impact. Indra doesn’t process as he topples backwards and vanishes. Only when he hears the splash does the world start moving at its normal speed again.  
Indra swears, pushing himself practically into the road and through a small gap in the traffic. The cane is still there, one with floral patterns, but the man himself has vanished with barely a ripple.   
Indra swears again, taking off his shoes with his feet as he examines the water below.   
The man still doesn’t reappear. He takes a deep breath and dives.  
The water knocks the air out of his lungs, pulling at his clothes. Beneath it’s murky, with no sign of anything, much less a person and for a moment Indra thinks he may have already gotten out. Then, through the muddy water, he sees a shape. It seems to drift closer to him, and he paddles desperately until he can get a firm hold on the figures arm and pull him to the surface.   
There’s only one gasp as they surface, Indra struggling to blink water out of his eyes to try and find a place to get back to the shore.   
“Over here!” Comes the yell, and a frantic wave from a young androgynous person standing midway down a flight of steps. Together they pull the man onto the platform and Indra starts doing compressions on his chest.  
“Don’t you dare leave me.” He coughs, breath ragged from his time underwater. It only takes a couple of minutes for the other to put a hand on his arm.  
“Let me.” Indra falls back onto his heels staring at the blue lipped face. Then, in a moment, he moves forward to do the two breaths before the other person can get there. He pulls away, cupping the man’s face in his hands.  
“Just stay with me.” He tells him as he closes his eyes.   
The otherworld is easy to slip into today, the new moon climbing slowly toward the horizon in the purplish sky. There’s no sign of the city here, barely even a building in sight across the barrows. The man is staring out across the dark green hills, rocks breaking through the surface like scars here and there. Here his skin is a moonlit white, despite the thin sliver of moon.   
“Hey.” Indra starts, because he has no idea what else to say.   
“Oh.” The man glances over his shoulder, with scarcely a jump. “There are people here…”  
“There are, but you shouldn’t be.”   
“It reminds me of where my Grandmother used to live…”   
“Please come back with me.” Indra’s voice is quiet. The brown haired man takes a step forward, cocking his head to one side.   
“Who are you?”  
“Just part of the dream.”  
“And you want me to wake up.” He smiles in amusement.  
“I’m a self-destructive dream.” Indra shrugs.   
“I was by the river… Then I was- I was falling.” He frowns at Indra, furrowing his brow in both confusion and realisation. “Did I..?”  
“Not yet.” The man’s lip quivers, his eyes are wide shining moon grey. “Please.” Indra repeats, holding out his hand.  
There’s a cough, a retch, and then the man doubles over and vomits a stream of water into Indra’s lap. The person next to him moves to steady him with careful caring hands.   
“Oh…” It’s more of a groan than a word. “Oh!” His voice is hoarse and strained. “I’m so sorry.” Indra simply bursts out laughing, relief bubbling to the surface.   
“No, no. This is nothing at all, what’s a pair of trousers?”

At hospital, the man, Rónán, of course knows everyone.   
“They’re my colleagues.” He explains. Indra nods, and wonders where the student got to briefly. The metal in the building makes him nervous, it seems alive as it hums like bees in his ears.   
“You know what to look out for, right Rónán?” The woman treating him asks. “You know, to make sure you don’t die in your sleep tonight.”  
“I feel fine Siobhan.” He reassures her, grinning at Indra.  
“You certainly look better than you should for a guy who nearly drowned today.”   
“Technically I did drown.”  
“And got yourself a concussion along the way. Is this your friend?” She scrutinises Indra with near black eyes. He waves in return.  
“He pulled me out, we actually don’t know each other…”  
“Well good job, this guy’s too good for us to lose him yet. You have anyone to stay with tonight?” She asks Rónán, who shrugs. “Seriously. You can’t come back to mine, my mother’s staying, and besides my cat still hasn’t forgiven you.”  
“I can keep an eye on him.” Indra volunteers, it comes as a surprise to him too. Siobhan raises an eyebrow.  
“You can?”  
“I mean we don’t actually- I’m Indra by the way, hi.” Rónán gives a cheerful wave in return for his own awkward hand raise. “But if you need someone I’m willing to sleep on the sofa or something.”  
“Well I’d rather not let him go if there’s no one there to keep an eye on him…”  
“He can stay.” Rónán tells her quickly. “I don’t need a bed Siobhan, let someone else have it. I know what to look out for and I’ll tell him what to do to. I am trained in this.”  
“And stubborn as hell. I want you back in tomorrow, and not to work.” Rónán pouts at her. “Even you know that’s a bad idea.”  
“Fine.” Rónán pushes himself up, a little stiff. “Where did my stick go..?”  
“Shit! Your cane!” Indra slaps his forehead, no quite believing that out of everything else he remembered to do that was the one thing he missed. Rónán simply laughs, leaning on the bed as he doubles over.   
“It’s flowery, how did you miss it?”  
“I had more things to worry about, like the guy who just vomited water into my lap.”   
“That was involuntary and I already apologised.”   
“Well, these are my favourite trousers…”  
“Do you want me to buy you a new pair?” Rónán raises an eyebrow just a touch. Siobhan groans in the background.  
“Would you two stop flirting? Jaysus…” She hands Rónán a slip of paper. “No sex tonight. I mean it.”  
“You know my heart belongs to you.” Siobhan pats his cheek, garnering a small wince from Rónán.  
“It’d never work sweetheart, Melitta hates you too much.”

“This is me…” Rónán brings them to the steps of one of the many red-brick Georgian houses along the street, a mere 10 minute walk from the hospital.   
“You don’t do grand by halves do you?” Indra comments, thinking of his own little flat, nice enough on the inside but comparatively in a back alley.   
“My flat’s only small, it’s just convenient for work, as you may have guessed.” Indra hums in agreement, as they descend the stairs to the side of the front steps. “You don’t have to stay if you have some place to be. I really do feel fine.” Rónán informs him, yet again, as he pushes open the door onto a stone lined corridor.  
“Why are doctors always the most stubborn? I’m not going to rescue you just to let you keel over later.” Rónán makes a noise at him, ushering him into a small flat on the ground floor. “Bathroom’s to your left, bedroom next, then the living area.” He’s instructs as they pass through the small hallway. Inside the living area is bright and airy, relatively simply decorated but with postcards gradually spreading their way across the wall behind the sofa. To his right is a kitchen whose proportions Indra thinks might even rival his own, at first glance, but later discovers to be deceptive. The table has a vase of late daffodils on it, the sofa a hand crocheted patchwork blanket.   
“Who are all these people?” Indra smiles, leaning closer to examine the wall of photographs. He recognises Siobhan immediately, even with electric blue streaks in her braids. There are others with them, he assumes it might be university, all with wild grins on their faces as they form a close group for the camera. There are a few more with the group, a few that look like family shots, and a few that he can’t quite decipher as they tail away across the room.  
“Hmm?” Rónán’s hanging his coat. “Oh, well you’ve spotted Siobhan. That was our uni group. Mostly medical students, they’re the only ones who can keep up with your schedule. Uh, a few work do’s… Family shots obviously, those are all my cousins.”  
“Big family.”  
“Only child though.” Indra chuckles. “And that one there you’re looking at is an old patient.”   
“Do you take pictures with many of your ex-patients?” Indra studies the picture, Rónán’s with a family, the eldest child in the bed giving a thumbs up.   
“Sometimes they send me cards.” Rónán smiles fondly. “She was lovely.” He points to a middle aged lady. “Got really worried because she had to have her foot amputated. So I sat with her on my break and reassured her that she’d be able to do everything she had before. It’s scary, but you can overcome that.”  
“Do you…” Indra glances round to him with a frown. Rónán shrugs, patting his left leg.  
“Up to my thigh. When I was sixteen I was hit by a car, and woke up quite a while later black and blue and with only a ghost where my leg used to be.”  
“Is there still a ghost..?” Indra asks carefully. Rónán sits himself on the sofa, stretching.  
“I think there’ll always be. But it doesn’t worry me, not anymore. Like I said to her, you can’t let these things stop you. Sometimes you have to lose one thing to gain something else – life obviously but you know if losing my leg means that I can better help just one person then it’s already given me something. Besides, I kinda like being able to have an excuse to get those fancy walking sticks.”  
“I’m sorry I left it.”  
“It’s alright, I have a little collection. That one wasn’t so hard to replace. Some of the others I may have been more annoyed at you for.” Indra chuckles.   
“Do you want me to make us some drinks or something?”   
“Because you know where everything in my house is?” Rónán looks marginally more amused than anything, quirking an eyebrow.   
“You could help, but if I were you I’d take advantage of being waited on hand and foot.” Rónán considers a moment, before nodding.  
“Mugs are next to the sink. Knock yourself out.” Indra smiles, heading into the tiny kitchen to have a dig around. In the cupboard he finds a shelf of mugs, variously funny, garish or oddly shaped.   
“You have an interesting taste.”  
“Most of them are from colleagues, I’m known as a tea lover.”   
“Single and ready to flamingle?” Indra laughs as he finds a mug.  
“After I broke up with my last partner in Uni, it was a bit of a joke…”  
“Let me guess, ‘for fox sake’ was from Siobhan.” He pulls out the mug and places it on the side, pulling out another for himself – because he can’t resist one reading espresso patronum, which upon further inspection has the grim already inside.  
“Most of the science-y ones are from her.”   
“How do you take your tea?”  
“I’m going with the pear one I think? So plain is fine.”  
“There’s pear tea?”   
“Above the kettle.” Indra opens the cupboard with a small ‘oh’ to find a wide variety of different teas staring back at him, all with little cups on the front, all looking very organic and healthy. “Find it?” Rónán’s voice holds a hint of amusement.  
“Give me a minute.” He begins digging carefully through, so as not to cause an avalanche, until he finds the green and pink box. 

“That was a dirty trick.” He informs Rónán as he enters the room again a couple of minutes later, tea in hand. Rónán has changed now, into a jumper and jeans. “How many teas do you have?”  
“Enough for any eventuality. I like to mix things up depending on my mood.”   
“So I see.” He passes across the mug, before settling on the sofa.  
“So, you know a bit about me now, tell me something about you.”  
“Like?”  
“Family?”   
“A few, back over in India.” It’s a colony they formed for themselves, on the Deccan Plateau of their birth among the trees. Brothers, sisters, parental figures within a larger group. “We’re all close, but it’s primarily extended family.”   
“Why did you leave?”   
Deforestation.  
“I fancied a change, and Ireland is beautiful. I went to England first, for a little while, then eventually moved over here.”  
“Well, I may be biased but you made the right choice. Though the weather must have been a shock.” Indra sips his tea, a Chai he found buried in the cupboard, not as good as you’d get back home but it has some nostalgia, smiling to himself.   
“You get used to it. Besides, I spent quite a while travelling and it’s beautiful. And we may even get more rain than you.”  
“Is that possible?” Rónán laughs.   
“Just wait until you see a monsoon.”

“Go on then, you have so many teas which is your favourite?” Indra asks, their own cups sitting long finished on the coffee table. Rónán mulls it over.  
“After dinner mint.”  
“That exists?”  
“It does, and it is actually fantastic. My turn… Okay weird one, do you actually shave your head..?” He asks cautiously, and Indra can’t hold back an amused smile.   
“It’s a form of alopecia, I didn’t get much past 5 with any hair.”   
“Really?”   
“We can’t all be blessed with a mop like yours.” Indra nods to the now dry curls, springy and falling over his forehead.  
“Not always a blessing. In uh… Well Uni I had a run in with a cheap hair dresser who could not style curly hair for toffee.”  
“Oh no…” Indra chuckles.  
“Siobhan actually did a better job doing the tidy up but it was all over the place for ages…”  
“Alright… If you could go anywhere where would it be?”  
“Somewhere mountainous, just for impracticality. Switzerland or Nepal or somewhere like that. The landscapes are just so beautiful and I’d love to be able to go the top and breathe the cold air…”  
“That’s a lovely idea.”   
“Tattoos?”  
“Nope.”  
“None?” Rónán seems shocked.  
“You mean you do?” Indra asks curiously.   
“I may have the Rod of Asclepius on my shoulder… And Siobhan and a couple of others may have matching ones…” Indra snorts. “Okay closest family member.”  
“I didn’t ask a question!”   
“Yes you did, that counted.” Indra pouts.  
“Fine. One of my sisters. Aadhira. We were closest in age, she was younger and we sort of wound each other up and loved each other all at once.”   
“That sounds really sweet.”  
“She is, mean, but sweet.” Indra grins. “Uuuhh… Name meaning?”  
“Um, well it’s little seal actually…”  
“You’re not serious.”   
“Like yours is better.”  
“Mine is after the God of the sky and rain. Yours is just adorable.”   
“Shut up…” Rónán mutters, turning just slightly red. “I vote we stop this game and get food.”   
“Now I think I want to see how red you can go.”   
“What would you prefer? Take away or cooking?” Rónán continues, ignoring him.  
“I’m easy.” Indra grins.   
“Pizza, Chinese, Thai, Indian?”  
“Thai sounds good.” After a short while of digging in the table next to the sofa, Rónán throws a menu at him, folding his arms sulkily.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while hasn't it? Completely unintentional, but I've been busy working on a holiday exchange and hopefully some Complications Christmas stuff! But for now have some more Sidhe, they're so much fun to write, but I don't currently have anything cohesive


End file.
